Over One Monkee's Nature
by The Orangest Child
Summary: One day Davy returns to the pad all bleeding. The in-time help returns him to life, but strange things start happening. Mike has to find out what he's dealing with - and what he can do...
1. The Mad Night

A/N: Well, this is my first _normal_ try in the Monkee fanfiction – well, in the fanfiction on the whole. This was meant to be like a Monkee thriller – at least I'm trying. There will be quite Mike/Davy-ish line, it will get bigger to the end, and I'm planning to write a second part of this story, where this line will be developed. But this is to come, and you have a story now in front of you eyes. I hope you enjoy, the honest criticism is welcome.

* * *

**Chapter 1. The mad night.**

Everything was already dark on this part of the street. A time of the night hunters – stray cats and thieves – had come to this quiet place, and nobody of its old and humble or young and inexperienced inhabitants dared to step out of their safe homes. They were sleeping in their warm beds or they were far away from here partying and they would come only in the morning, when it's already grey and you can see more than just silhouettes, with a bunch of happy and a little drunken friends holding on to their shoulders – or themselves holding on to their friends' shoulders.

Now it was dark. The street was quiet. Somewhere the stray cats started their concert. Everything seemed to be asleep.

* * *

Only one house wasn't sleeping. The warm yellow light came out of its windows and it made that house look like a little lantern in all that dark. Nobody moved inside there, no dark figures seemed to be visible, but this house wasn't sleeping, it was breathing from inside in this dark night.

Mike sighed. He put his hand on the strings of the guitar – they vibrated just a little more and then stopped. Mike listened carefully as the sound dissolved, the littlest echoes dying and falling on the floor. Then he put his guitar aside and listened to the silence now surrounding him. He sat there for a moment or two, looking like some animal – his ears pricked up, tense, waiting. Then quiet groan escaped from his lips, and he buried his face in his hands. He didn't know what he expected to hear – just it was not that dead silence. Mike was anxious like he had never been before.

Micky and Peter were most likely asleep, they had been for about an hour, if Mike was correct – well, he knew for sure that since he told them to go to bed and not to worry, they wished him goodnight and went to their bedrooms, they hadn't appeared. It was not they whom Mike worried about. No, as long as he was there in the pad, those two could sleep peacefully. It was Davy whom Mike was thinking about all that time.

He went away with his girl – the second one this week – at about five o'clock, and now it was five minutes to midnight and Mike didn't know what to do. He was feeling just so terribly helpless he wanted to cry, but he held his emotion deep inside the heart, he locked it and let it bite and scratch him from the inside, not letting it show. In fact, he was used to keeping everything inside, that's why people usually thought he was a stone-like, selfish arse, which he was not. He was used to this opinion as well and it didn't bother him much, because he knew that there were three guys who knew what he was like in fact, and this brought relief. But now Mike was wondering in fear where the third one might be.

Of course, he could simply overstay and there could be nothing to worry about – gosh, who knew Davy better than Mike? Still he couldn't believe in this for some reason and the thing he didn't know the reason made him worry even more. Something bad could happen…

But then again – something kept Mike from just jumping from his place, taking a coat and running out in the dark, recklessly throwing himself to saving Davy he didn't even know from what. And the only thought that the thing he might be saving his friend from could be just a bunch of girls flying around brought Mike that strange feeling below his stomach – he always had it when he was embarrassed.

Some voice inside his head told him not to think a lot, just to run – better to care too much than to care too little. Another one told him that he shouldn't eat himself – it's Davy, God, he, Mike, knows him even better than Davy knows himself!

* * *

In the middle of that inner fight Mike's ear caught the sound of the soft footsteps.

- Hey Pete, - Mike said in his usual voice and intonation, not to let his friend know how worried he was.

- Hey Mike, - Peter answered as he sat down right on the floor. – Davy still isn't home, is he? – he asked after a short pause.

- No, as you see, - Mike said with a sigh. – I wonder if something happened.

- If something happened, we would surely know about it, - Peter said with a slight smile. – Don't you know how it always goes…

Mike had to admit Peter was right. Somebody, either the bad guys themselves or a company Davy was in, would immediately be at their door. They had a lot of problems sometimes because of Davy's loose tongue, but now this thought calmed Mike down a bit.

- And why aren't _you_ in bed? – he asked a little crossly, as if to get rid of Peter.

- Well, you know… - Peter looked down. – I wonder what could happen, too.

- And what did you think out? – Mike asked with a bit of irony.

But Peter didn't manage to answer. The door swung open and the little figure appeared in the doorway. Mike jumped on his feet and ran to the little man just in time: Davy made an unsure step, staggered once, twice – and fell on Mike's hands. He looked scary; his shirt was black with blood.

* * *

Nobody noticed another figure at the door. The man cast the last glance at the guys and quickly walked away, not wanting to be thanked.

* * *

- Davy! Oh God, dear, Davy, man…

One fierce look closed Peter's mouth.

- Moans and groans don't usually help bleeding people, - Mike hissed through his teeth. – You'd better stop and bring me something to treat his wounds just _a little_, just _for now_, just to STOP ALL THIS DAMNED BLOOD!

He was able to shout these last words in desperation, as soon as he put Davy's soft unconscious body on the couch. They had a magical effect on Peter – he disappeared immediately and Mike quickly wiped his wet eyes so nobody would see how desperate he was in the moment. He knelt down near Davy and started taking what was once his bright yellow shirt off of him, being so nervous that his hands were shaking. Those reddish brown, sticky pieces of fabric hardly resembled anything like a shirt. Soon Mike's hands were all covered up with blood, he was biting his lips and trembling, but he managed to take all the fabric off the deep fresh wounds on Davy's body.

- Go-od, man, what did you put yourself in? – Mike whispered examining Davy's little body.

He looked bitter, so small on that couch, crippled right hand hanging down touching the floor. Mike didn't dare to move it – it could have been broken and he didn't want to make anything worse. Pain was written on his little friend's face, and of course it wasn't unusual – Davy looked as if a bunch of large dogs had attacked him.

- Must've been dogs, - Mike mumbled to himself.

In a second or two, the door swung open once again. Peter came with the doctors.

* * *

Doctors knew their job, and everything showed that it wasn't such an unnecessary care. Mike and Peter were pushed aside and they took their place on the stairs – Mike biting his lips nervously and Peter rubbing his right palm with his left thumb. They had done all they could.

- Should I always shout for you to work so well? – Mike asked quietly with a slight weak smile, just to calm Peter and himself down a bit.

Peter shrugged and looked at him for a second.

- He must be terribly wounded.

- He is, - Mike said with a sigh. – Must've been dogs.

- Dogs?

- Right, and quite big ones… - he made a pause then smiled bitterly. – Enormous ones. Davy's not timid, they must've been big and hungry. Otherwise, you know, they wouldn't attack.

- Ye-es… - Peter said thoughtfully. – The dogs bite the ones who're afraid of them, right?

- Right. Either they were large and hungry – but where could he be to find _such_ large and hungry dogs? Or…

Mike made a pause and Peter encouraged him:

- Or?

- Or I wonder what made him so scared…

Peter didn't know, Mike either. They just sat silently watching doctors walking quickly up and down the room. They said things to each other, not quite understandable ones…


	2. The Idiotic Morning

A/N: So here's the second chapter. As every thriller, mine needs a little stupid beginning as well – for everybody to feel relaxed. Hope it's silly enough and not too much. The most interesting is yet to come. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 2. The idiotic morning.**

Happily, not a single bone was broken. Davy lost a lot of blood, but not enough to die. By the time the newborn morning cast the first grey light from behind the horizon Davy's condition had stabilized. As doctors were leaving, they told Mike and Peter to contact them if it would get worse, but assured that it was extremely unlikely. They told Mike what to do as poor kind Peter ran to Davy, and left.

* * *

Michael closed the door behind them and went to the couch, feeling how heavy his body had suddenly become. He put his hand on Peter's shoulder and said exhaustedly:

- Go to bed, Pete. Don't worry. I'll be here to help Dave in case he needs something. You go, you need rest.

Peter got up and looked Mike in the eyes. He looked worried.

- It's okay, - Mike assured with a weak smile. – He will wake up soon and he will feel better.

- You think?

- I promise. Well, what's more, the doctors said so. You shouldn't worry.

Peter still wasn't sure.

- But you may need my help… in anything…

- You have already helped a lot, - Mike managed after a pause. – I... and he… we… thank you. Go to bed and have some rest. You must be tired.

- Okay…

Peter glanced at Davy, then again at Mike, who nodded, and went to the bedroom. He closed the door after him and left Mike alone with the light in the pad, which was not so necessary now, the light outside, slowly getting brighter, and Davy.

Mike was exhausted but he didn't let himself close the eyes. He went upstairs to his and Micky's bedroom, took the one clean sheet they had 'just in case', looked at Micky casually and went back downstairs. Any other day he would be surprised how his friend could be still asleep after so much of a hustle, stomp and shout, but now he didn't even think of it. As he was downstairs he went to switch off the light. Then he came back to the couch, covered Davy carefully with the sheet, knelt down near him and looked at him carefully.

He was of a strange colour – some yellowish white. His hands were resting on his chest, moving a little up and back down as he breathed. The breath was slow and deep, Davy was fast asleep and he was surely going to feel better soon. All his wounds were bandaged, Davy was surrounded with whiteness, and at least in contrast with it he looked quite alive. Mike put his heavy head on his own arms near Davy. Now all his fear and desperation were far away. Sun was slowly rising and Mike had an hour or two… just an hour or two…

* * *

He woke up because some hand was stroking his shoulder lightly and softly.

- Mike. Mike.

The call was quiet, modest, but Mike recognized the voice immediately and jumped on his feet.

- Davy!

Davy pressed his finger to the lips.

- Shhhh. Guys must be asleep.

Mike looked at the clock on the wall – it was nine o'clock. He looked around, completely awake. The sun was shining brightly outside. Davy was sitting on the couch – to Mike's relief his usual honey colour had returned – and looking up at Mike, absolutely alive and seemingly quite well. Mike fell on the couch face to Davy and grabbed his shoulders – carefully enough not to hurt.

- God! Man! How are you?

Davy smiled a little and looked down.

- You choose first to whom you're addressing – to God or to man? I'm fine, just… hurts…

Mike stroked his shoulder brotherly.

- I see.

There was a little confused pause. Davy's smile faded, he looked at his knees covered with white sheet and seemed to try to concentrate on something. Mike released his shoulders and started rubbing his jeans knees, not looking at his friend either. Finally Davy raised his head and Mike met his eyes.

- Mike… what happened to me? – Davy asked quietly and somehow worriedly.

- You don't remember?

Davy frowned, trying to recall. Then he looked at Mike again.

- It's okay, Mike. Don't tell me. I do. I do… - he ran his fingers through his chocolate hair and sighed somehow ashamedly. - My… I'm sorry, Mike. I'm so sorry… I shouldn't have stayed there for so long. Then, maybe, that dog…

- Shhh!

Davy nodded, not looking at Mike.

- Don't tell me now, Dave, - Michael said softly. - Wait till Micky and Peter wake up, you'll tell us all what happened to you.

Davy nodded again. Mike tried to catch his eye, but he couldn't, so he did his best to stop this awkward silence.

- You hungry?

Davy shook his head.

- No, not really. Make me some tea, please, if you don't mind.

Mike stood up, glad to be able to finally _do_ something - something useful - and went to check if there was any water in the kettle. Happily, there was some.

* * *

- I'm an idiot, - Davy informed after some time. – Did you know?

Mike smiled as he approached the couch with a cup in his hands.

- I always did. But this never happened to bother me much.

Davy smiled, looking at him from under his bushy eyebrows, failing to make his 'offended face'. He took the cup from Mike's hands and they spent another minute in silence.

- Hey guuuuys! – Micky drawled as he walked down the stairs. – Good mo…

He stopped as he saw Davy's white bandages.

- Davy?

The next moment he rushed to the couch, but fell from the stairs and sat up on the floor, wincing and rubbing his head.

- You okay? – Mike asked, standing up a little.

- Ye-es…

Micky got up and went quickly and this time more carefully to the couch. He sat near Davy opposite Mike and glanced worriedly at their little friend.

- Hey, man…

- I don't know how you didn't wake up, - Mike said with a smile. – We raised such a noise!

- Really? – Micky looked at Mike then back at Davy. – God, stupid me… listen, but what happened?

Davy opened his mouth to say something, but Mike wouldn't let him.

- Be patient. We'll hear it all as soon as Peter wakes up.

- Oh? So why wait?

Micky got up and, before Mike could stop him, he was in Peter and Davy's bedroom.

* * *

Of course, it wasn't the best idea to wake Peter, but who could stop Micky? Well, of course, Mike knew the answer – if Peter had big teeth and sharp claws, Micky would surely be afraid even to look at him. But all Peter had was half-empty blonde head, and this surely couldn't scare anybody, especially Micky. So soon they appeared at the door of the bedroom together.

In a minute or two everybody finally got dressed – except for Davy, of course – and sat near the couch – Mike and Micky on chairs they brought themselves, and Peter couldn't think out anything better than just sit on the floor. Three pairs of worried and waiting eyes were staring at Davy.

- Well, you know where I went yesterday…

He stopped as if he didn't know how to continue. He started playing with the sheet nervously and Mike tried to encourage him:

- You went out with your girlfriend. By the way, how was she?

Davy smiled confusedly.

- Well, she… you know, as usual. After some talk I understood she wasn't really my one. I think she understood the same and then she went home. Or wherever, I don't care much.

- Okay, - Mike smiled to him slightly, just to reassure the little one. – She went and you stayed, right?

- Well, yes, - Davy said, playing with his sheet even more nervously. – I should have gone home, I know, I must've… but…

- But there was much more fun there, wherever you were, right? – Mike finished his sentence, trying his best to sound friendly.

- Well, kind of…

- Okay then. I don't think we're so interested in your adventures with the girls…

- Why – why not, Mike? – Peter asked, touching his arm humbly.

Mike just cast an annoyed glance at his friend – in the extreme conditions that night he showed himself the best, but as soon as everything calmed down, he kept on as an innocent fool, and this irritated Mike like nothing else. Peter looked down and Mike turned to Davy.

- Well, okay. Tell us, where did you go when you left the place?

- I chose the shortest way, - Davy said with a shrug. – Well, it was quite a dark one, but I thought you might worry…

- _Might_, - Mike mumbled quietly hoping Davy wouldn't hear him. But the little one did and looked down ashamedly.

- I'm sorry, - he repeated.

- Knock it off, - Mike said just to end those embarrassed pauses, there were way too many of them that morning. – Next time stop to think just for a minute, okay? It's not the thing we're talking about. You walked out and what then?

- Well, I chose the shortest way, - Davy continued, still sounding ashamed, which made Mike regret his annoyed voice. – Nobody was around, I hurried up. Well, I had nothing with me like money - I'd spent everything I had, you know, but we have different folks going through the streets, especially the dark ones, don't we? I hoped nothing would happen to me – as you know, I'm usually quite a lucky guy.

Mike grinned but said nothing. Davy didn't notice anything, he went on:

- I didn't expect anything wrong, you know. It was quiet around – well, such a street, mostly old folks live there, nobody dares to disturb them. But suddenly…

He swallowed hard and looked at his friends. They were waiting in silence – three pairs of eyes, three tense figures.

- A dog… a large dog… - Davy tried, but his voice trembled. – It… jumped out of nowhere… jumped on me… enormous… black… I… I don't remember… just… a sudden wave of fear… and pain… overwhelming…

He pressed bases of his palms to his eyes. Feeling he must do something, Mike sat by Davy on the couch and put the arm around his shoulders. Davy swallowed hard – again, as if trying to keep calm and not to cry. Mike pressed Davy close and said soothingly:

- Hush, man. It's okay. Now you're here, with us.

Davy nodded, swallowing again, and squeezed the bridge of his nose with both his hands' fingers.

Peter and Micky sat near, too. It took them all a lot of kind words and gentle tapping and brotherly holding before Davy, whose cheeks and nose kept going redder, finally buried his face in his hands, his whole body shaking.

Mike, scared to death, took his both hands off his face and grabbed it, ready to shout something utterly stupid – but he stopped with his mouth open. With late tears running down his cheeks, Davy was laughing, his face red, absolutely hysterical. Embarrassed like never before, Mike released him immediately, but Davy, not able to stop laughing, put his hands on Mike's shoulders – and the next moment he was leaning on Mike, half-laughing half-crying in his shoulder.

- Oh boy, you're so hilarious! - he managed to exhale. – I wonder if you love your girlfriends half as much as you love me!

Not knowing what he should do, Mike held both his hands out.

- Guys! Guys, please do something, he's mad. Guys! GUYS!

Micky and Peter were laughing like crazy, both as red as Davy. His laugh was so infectious, it usually was even funnier than the joke itself. And Mike was sitting like an idiot, surrounded by those crying with laughter fellas, not knowing what to do and extremely embarrassed with the thought that they were most likely laughing at him…


	3. Strange Evening And Even Stranger Night

A/N: Here the mystery begins! And _yet_ the most interesting is to come! Quite a short one, but soon there'll be much more. Enjoy!  
P.S. Honest criticism is welcome ^)

* * *

**Chapter 3. The strange evening and even stranger night.**

All in all, the day was quite usual. After this much laughter Davy fell on the floor and Mike ended up changing his bandages. And after that little one got suddenly annoyed and he spent the rest of the day just lying on the couch. To Mike's relief he soon fell asleep.

In the evening he woke up but refused to get up from the couch and just lied there deep in thought of something. The strange things started late in the evening when Mike came from another man who appeared to be a crook and found Davy fully dressed. He was doing something with his hair in front of the mirror and humming one of Mike's latest songs.

- And where do you think you're going?

Davy turned to Mike and smiled in reply to this not very polite greeting.

- Just wanna look like sane.

- At this time of night?

The ironic doubt sounded in Mike's voice. Davy nodded slightly.

- Believe me. I'm not going anywhere. Just I don't think that it's much of a pleasure to see me like… the way I looked all day.

- Well, it seems to me nobody really minds.

Davy shrugged and dropped the comb on the table as he walked back to the couch. Mike noticed he looked a little pale.

- Hey, you okay? – he asked worriedly.

- Absolutely.

* * *

But something wasn't okay, and Mike knew it. Peter happened to notice it, too. He came back even later, with no success as well and the first thing he saw was Davy.

- Hi mate. You didn't waste your time, - he said with a smile as he walked in.

- I don't think that my tired unhappy face made you think so, - Mike responded wearily.

- I'm talking to Davy, - Peter explained turning to the little one. - What today? Another date or somebody from your family is to arrive?

- Hey, why in the world would you think so? – Davy asked, getting up.

- Oh come on, - Peter smiled, tapping Davy's cheek friendly as he walked towards the bathroom. – You only wear this shirt when something special is to happen!

- He's right, - Mike remarked when Peter closed the door after him. – You only wear this shirt in special cases, so now no reasons to lie. Who is it today?

Davy started walking up and down the room, nervous.

- Nobody.

- Even Peter noticed – _even _Peter! – Mike reminded.

Davy fell heavily in one of the chairs.

- Mike, can't you hear me – I just. Got. Dressed.

- Well, okay. Anything, - Mike said exhaustedly. – I'm going to bed. There's no use of sitting here. I'm tired. You may go out or do whatever you wish, just beware when you choose the shortest way. There are some dogs that seem to like Davys.

Davy didn't answer, so Mike just went upstairs, changed and slipped under the blanket. He didn't even have time to wonder what had happened to his little mate – as soon as his head touched the pillow, he fell asleep.

* * *

But that night wasn't as peaceful as Mike expected. He woke up because someone slammed the door, but it took him a few minutes to understand it. Some noise came from downstairs, another door's lock clicked and everything was silent at once.

After the click Mike's brain started working again. He sat up and listened. The pad was silent; Mike could hear Micky's breath and his own heartbeat. He walked silently towards the door, opened it and pricked up his ears. He heard the muted sound of the shower from behind the bathroom door. It the moonlight he could see the clock – it was one o'clock am. Who would be having a shower in such a time?

It all was really suspicious. Mike went downstairs and stopped in the middle of the room, listening. Somebody was clearly having a shower in the middle of the night. Micky was sleeping, Mike saw him, he himself surely wasn't having a shower as he was standing right there listening and wondering, who's left?

Mike was about to head to Peter and Davy's bedroom – just to check. His heart was pounding. But as he took a few steps, the bathroom door opened – and Mike's heart skipped a beat. Davy was standing in front of him – a dark figure in the rectangle of the yellow light – wearing his pyjama and holding something under his arm. Mike looked at Davy feeling a strange tremble. His little mate's eyes were _shining_. He couldn't see his features as light was behind Davy's back, but he could see two bright dots, like two stars.

The next moment Davy's hand reached to switch off the light – and the dark figure merged with the blackness around. Mike could see only two cold stars and it was scary. Davy stood at the bathroom door staring at Mike not moving.

In a few moments of fierce blinking Mike could see again. The thing under his mate's arm, as Mike could guess, was the shirt the little one was wearing in the evening. Mike could see something like the pattern and the buttons. Maybe there were also pants, Mike couldn't distinguish. They stood staring for a few more seconds, then Davy turned and headed to his and Peter's bedroom. At the door he looked back once again – and Mike saw the two cold stars again. And chills ran down his spine – they were absolutely, purely _diabolic_…


	4. The Terrible Morning

A/N: The mystery goes on! Here's another morning, and nothing's gonna be the same. Let's see what goes and how it goes. Tell me what and how if anything's not like it should be.

* * *

**Chapter 4. The terrible morning.**

When Mike finally woke up, it was grey outside. He sat up on his bed and winced – he had a terrible headache and he already knew he wouldn't get rid of it next at least three hours – and after that it would just disappear by itself. Mike fell back on the bed – the pain pounded in his head with one bright red flash and then started its pulsing fading to stay somewhere in the bottom of Mike's skull.

* * *

Mike didn't remember how he had got back upstairs and in bed, he just found himself under the blanket trembling with absolutely animal fear. He didn't sleep normally that night. He dreamt about the two cold diabolic stars on the face he knew so well and woke up with a gasp, and fell back on the pillow to fall asleep again – and the two stars came again, even closer, they were so bright, silver and blue, not like the stars that shine from the sky seen from the Earth, no, they were so cold and evil – and Mike woke up again, groaning, and his cheeks were wet, and he hid his head under the pillow and fell asleep again just to see the two stars even closer. It was so endless and scary – and finally that unbearable night ended. And although the morning had finally come and tomorrows usually brought release, Mike couldn't stop thinking of what had happened. It didn't feel like a terrible nightmare, no, it all was so real and even more terrifying because of it.

Feeling unable to stay in that bed with the tangled sheet soaked with his sweat and unwilling to fall asleep again, Mike sat up and put his feet on the cold floor. This finally woke him up. Mike's glance fell on Micky. Gosh, this man slept so peacefully, Mike would give his right arm to sleep like this! He sighed and buried his face in his hands. It was unbearable. Everything was – just – unbearable…

Mike got dressed and went downstairs, where he headed right to the fridge where – he knew – they kept a secret supply of beer to be used on special occasions. It usually was another time they got money or another time they stayed penniless. Now it was neither one nor other case, but Mike couldn't help but drink something to make life easier.

* * *

It didn't help. Didn't help at all, it neither brought ease nor just made him feel even worse to – at least – _want_ to go to bed. Mike groaned and fell in the armchair to just cover his face with his hands not to see anybody. He wanted to die so nobody would bother him, especially this headache that filled his poor skull…

- Mike?

- M? – Mike moaned, not even managing to raise his head.

Micky must've sat on the arm of the chair. He put his hand on Mike's shoulder.

- What's wrong? You okay?

- M-m, - Mike shook his head. No, he wasn't okay. _At all_.

- Mike.

- M?

- As I'm a man, not a cow, you could speak a few words to me, not just moan. At least look at me. You sit here as if somebody died.

Mike raised his head and glanced at Micky. His face must've looked bitter because Micky specified:

- Anybody did?

- I did, I think, - Mike answered, sounding like dead without even trying.

- No, seriously, Mike! What happened?

Mike grinned.

- Seriously… who'd say!

- I would.

Mike sighed and glanced at the wall on his right. For a moment he doubted, but then turned his head to Micky and explained:

- A headache. Such a terrible night, God… didn't sleep at all.

He wiped his face with his hands as if it was wet and he was washing it.

- And that's all?

He nodded. Micky seemed a little relieved.

- Oh, then it's okay. It happens. Why don'tcha take something and just go to bed?

- It will… be gone by itself soon, - Mike said quickly, glancing at the clock. – Yes, soon. Don't worry. I'm such an arse when I've got a headache, - he said with sudden sincerity.

- Oh it's okay, you're always like that, - Micky threw over his shoulder heading to the bathroom.

* * *

Peter woke up soon, he came out of his and Davy's bedroom yawning.

- Good morn.

- Yes, terrible, - Mike dropped with a sigh.

- What's wrong?

- Never mind…

Oh, how gladly he would tell them right now! But something stopped him, something inside him made him just complain and never reveal, something told him it all was only between him and Davy…

- As you wish. Davy won't come out for breakfast.

- Why so? – Mike raised his head.

- He's got a terrible headache, you know, - Peter shrugged. – Says he feels terrible and exhausted, as if he didn't even sleep. But not hungry. I think he's ill, but he wouldn't let me check. Maybe you go ask him?

"Ahha! I'll find my boots and run immediately!" - Mike thought inside. But he forced his face to look calm. He nodded and said:

- Well, okay. I think it's a good idea.

And he rose and went to see Davy.

* * *

Davy was lying on his bed staring out of the window, when Mike went in, his heart jumping in his throat. The little one looked at him and smiled weakly.

- Hey Mike. Won't say good morning, it's not that good.

- Not that good to me either, - Mike mumbled approaching the bed. – How are you?

- Terrible, - Davy confessed with a sigh. – It feels like something eats my brain from inside. You look blue, what's wrong with you?

- Just the same, - Mike answered as he sat down on the bed near Davy and leaned over him. A sudden worry appeared in Davy's eyes as he watched Mike.

- Hey, man, what're you doing? – he asked, uptight.

And at that very moment Mike grabbed his shoulders and hissed:

- Now _you_ tell me what've _you _been doing all night long? What was all that eye stuff about, tell me right now! And don't pretend you don't know anything!

He shook Davy and the little one shrank in his hands.

- Mike, oh, please… what in the world are you talking about? What eye stuff? I was sleeping all night, I promise, no, I _swear_!

- You swear, aha, - Mike hissed. He shook Davy even harder: - Then what _the hell_ did I see tonight? What the heck was it, what? What were you doing in the bathroom? _What were you washing off_?

- Mike!

Davy looked at him, so little and scared, that for a moment Mike doubted. Davy held his hands out, palms to Mike, turning away, like a little animal in the predator's claws. Mike looked at his hands and he saw something that made him start with a gasp, back to the door with trembling knees and then run out of the room and away from the pad. And only on the beach, when Mike fell on the cold sand under the silver skies hardly breathing, he knew perfectly well that he saw blood under Davy's nails…


	5. The Day of Search

A/N: Quite a slow one, but everything is to go faster soon! Hope you enjoy – keep enjoying – and it goes okay. Keep waiting for the most interesting, it's soon to come! But don't miss this chapter as well. ^)

* * *

**Chapter 5. The day of search.**

Of course, Mike was smart enough to understand that his hysterical runaway would make the guys suspicious and if he didn't return soon – which he didn't plan – they would go look for him. So he quickly put pieces of his mind together, washed his face in the warm waves and sat with his eyes closed for a minute or two just to calm down. Then he got up, brushed the sand off his jeans and went wandering, not knowing where in particular. His head was filled with thoughts; he didn't know which of them to think and this made him even more nervous. One thing he knew for sure – he wasn't going to come back to the pad maybe ever again, at least till the evening arrived.

* * *

Finally he happened to find out what to do. He looked around just to know where he was – and found himself just across the street from the library, so he didn't have to go far. He ran across the road and stopped at the library door for a few moments not to pant too heavily.

It was so quiet inside that Mike could hear how much noise the thoughts in his head raised. The little old librarian looked at him strictly over her glasses – and melted immediately.

- Ah, Mike!

- Hello, Mrs Tailor, - Mike greeted, managing to smile. – How are you? Hope your back is better.

- Oh thank you, Mikey boy, a little, - Mrs Tailor answered, putting her book down. – What do you want today? Something for Peter, again, or anything professional?

- Oh, come on, Mrs Tailor, what professional, - Mike looked down shyly. – No, today I've got a little strange thing to ask. You see, I'm looking for something… supernatural.

Mrs Tailor looked a little surprised, but she pulled herself together quickly and got up from her large table – she was so little and wrinkled, like some dried berry. Mike had always felt something warm towards her – she was like the Monkees' granny. She seemed to be the only one who understood the boys in absolutely grandmotherly way. And sometimes it seemed like she was born in the library, so purely librarian she looked.

- So, supernatural, - she said quietly. – What kind of supernatural? Do you need something like horror books? Or do you prefer something documentary?

- I need documentary things, - Mike answered quickly, following Mrs Tailor to the bookshelves. – Well, and stuff like myths or whatever.

- Can I ask what for? – Mrs Tailor asked over her shoulder, turning to Mike a little. – You never seemed to be interested in such things, you're such a serious, practical boy…

- Oh I… just thought everything is possible, - Mike said casually. – I thought that I can't say the thing doesn't exist before I prove it myself.

This stupid answer Mike immediately felt ashamed for seemed to satisfy Mrs Tailor. She handed him three books – one of them was large and old, the second one looked quite used up but not that old and the last one was brand new.

- Look, here. The best choices for you, I believe. The biggest one is the book of myths – seems to me of all the civilizations.

The book was so heavy old Mrs Tailor hardly stood, so Mike hurried to take it. She looked at him gratefully.

- Thank you, Mikey. Well, this is the book about ghosts and things, you know, was once popular… - Mike took the soft cover book from her hands. – And the last one is new, you see, some bestselling writer – or witch, who knows her…

'The newest warriors in dark forces', the title of the book said. Mike took it and looked at it curiously.

- Want to take them home? – Mrs Tailor asked politely.

- Oh no! – Mike nearly exclaimed. – No, I'll read here. You know, the atmosphere and things…

She nodded and walked him to the seat and turned on the reading-lamp on the old table.

- Here you are, Mikey. Call me if you need my help.

- Thank you, Mrs Tailor, - Mike smiled at her softly and opened the myth book.

* * *

The book appeared to be extremely hard to understand and after an hour of biting into the texts Mike didn't get anything useful. He put the book away with a sigh – those myths were really interesting and what's more every tangled sentence understood correctly brought Mike a great feeling of pride. But he couldn't waste his time and what's more it was such a tiring work. Mike took the worn out thing and opened it.

He swallowed half a book in about fifteen minutes and stifled an annoyed groan. It was nothing but a ridiculous novel about how to kill a vampire if you meet him in the street and a bunch of other not less idiotic things. Taking the third book in his hands Mike promised himself that if he wouldn't find anything normal in this thing either, he'd go the whole wide world to find out how to help Davy – and save his own precious skin. But after the first look at the text he dropped his head on his hands and started crying – he suddenly felt so little and helpless and the power he dared to fight was so big and dark and scary…

* * *

- Mike?

The warm light hand touched his shoulder and he jerked his head.

- What's wrong, Mikey boy? – Mrs Tailor asked kindly. – Is there anything I can help with?

And suddenly Mike felt he could tell her everything. He wiped his face with his hands and whispered, grasping Mrs Tailor's shoulders:

- Dear, dear Mrs Tailor, just promise you won't laugh at me, just promise you won't call a police – I swear, I'm normal, I'm sane, I'm not outta my mind, just listen!

- Mike, - Mrs Tailor said unexpectedly strictly. – If you want to show me you're sane, please calm down. Nobody will laugh at you, you can trust me, I'm telling you. Now go wash your face and come back.

But Mike didn't want to go anywhere. He told Mrs Tailor about everything that had happened since that mad night, he told her about the two cold evil stars and the blood under Davy's nails, he didn't hide anything from her. Mrs Tailor listened carefully, looking at Mike. When he finished and buried his face in his hands again, she said thoughtfully:

- I don't know what to say. Listen, he could just have his nose bleeding or something, and all that thing with eyes – it could just seem to you, maybe just the moonlight! It was a full moon, something strange always seems to us when it's a full moon.

- It couldn't be the moon, - Mike objected. – Anything but the moon. Nothing can give the man's eyes that light, Mrs Tailor.

- Who knows, who knows. All in all, you might be right. My neighbour thought her son was a vampire, she was sure.

- And what happened? – Mike asked wearily.

- Well, I don't know what it was, but she was found killed one day and her son had disappeared! I don't know what to think about it all, Mikey. You'd better check the newspapers. And – take my advice, forget those myths. I think you can trust this new book more. I've read it when I had nothing to do, and, you know, it's a really interesting thing!

Mike nodded.

- Okay…

- You know, we got all the newspapers sorted a short while ago and I think they're still on their places. Let's check, it seems to me we have a section of supernatural reports.

* * *

This section was like a heaven for a ghost hunter. Mike would bet not a single city had so many ghost connected things happening in a single year. He sat stooped over a pile of yellow rustling newspapers with a book on his side, deep into it all. It was like a detective, no, horror story without the start and without the end.

"_**A child brutally killed. The police think – father. 12-year-old sister claims – a ghost.**__ Little Mary says that a tall woman in black came into the room and started eating Mary's brother… _"

"_**Young man disappears in broad daylight.**_ _Mother claims they got mysterious threatening messages 'from hell'."_

_"__**A girl kills ten people and dies immediately.**__ 19-year-old Linda killed 10 people by simply biting them and then fell on the ground and died without any apparent reason."_

Mike just wondered how those stories didn't go further than little newspapers. Maybe somebody didn't want them to…

He took the newspaper after newspaper eagerly, reading two or three times just to make sure nothing like _their _case appears. Nothing. Nothing that would even remind of Davy's strange look and behaviour. Mike recalled it again and again – now with more excitement than fear. He needed to be specific. Anything like 'shining eyes' or 'evil in the air' and such clichés caught his eye immediately. But he kept in mind another thing that seemed very important to him: everything must appear after a person being bitten by a dog.

There were a lot of strange stories connected to biting and dogs, and there surely were many shining evil eyes – oh, if those 'dark forces' existed, they all must've had those eyes. But there was nothing that would come at least close to what had happened to Davy.

In the middle of that fruitless search Mrs Tailor came up to Mike. She put her light hand on his shoulder and reminded:

- Mikey, it's time to close the library.

Mike glanced at her quickly, then looked out of the window – the darkness was falling quickly on the earth. Mike suddenly realized he wanted to be back to the pad before Davy 'goes out', no, he wanted to be asleep, fast asleep before anything happen. To be honest, his biggest desire was to wake up from this nightmare right now. But, as he couldn't, he had to hurry. He got up quickly.

- Mrs Tailor, can I ask you for one thing? Can you please leave everything like this? I will come tomorrow, I promise, I just can't look for where I stopped once again. Can you?

Mrs Tailor shrugged.

- Well, I think I can… - she sighed and finished: - People rarely come, Mikey boy…

- That's better! – Mike exhaled. – Thank you Mrs Tailor, you're my saviour! Goodbye, goodbye, good night!  
And he ran out of the library.

* * *

Once he was in the street the cool air calmed him down a bit. Instead of running he paced long strides down to the pad. But as all the excitement was gone, the fear returned. The memories of the previous night filled Mike's head, the evil stars shone in front of his eyes when he was blinking.

Mike threw all the thoughts off and concentrated on his steps.

Right, left, right, left.

He hurried along the streets until he saw the pad. It was lit from inside and strange feeling rose from Mike's chest. He didn't want to come in, but he didn't want to stay out either. His steps slowed down, he was losing his confidence with each and every centimetre. However, he _made_ himself come to the front door and open it…


	6. The Scary Night

A/N: I think I'm doing it all way too fast, but here's another chapter! Mike/Davy line begins, all Jonesmith haters may go away right now ^). The promised 'most interesting' is here going on. It's a large one, but worth it – at least I hope so. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 6. The scary night.**

Mike walked in feeling a cold sharp stone below his stomach. Davy raised towards him – and stopped, tense, biting his lower lip.

- Hi Mike, - Micky threw over his shoulder. He curled up on the couch; Mike didn't have to look at his face to understand that all Micky had today was one big fail. – Peter's gonna be late, said you shouldn't wait for him. Told us not to worry – he'll be home by morning.

- Okay… - Mike mumbled looking at Davy in strange expectation.

- Mike, - the little mate began – and stopped, unsure.

- What? – Mike tried to encourage, though he himself was uptight inside.

- We… need to talk.

- Here you go, - Mike tried to look carefree, but his tension slipped in the intonation.

- No, I mean… alone.

- I said: here you go, - Mike said with a little more pressure.

Davy looked down, perplexed. He turned and headed to his and Peter's bedroom. Mike followed him, walking in and closing the door behind his back. Davy turned to him and Mike looked in his eyes in surprise – they were the eyes of a little cornered animal, so scared and desperate. Without a word Davy unbuttoned his shirt - and it slid off his smooth shoulders and fell lightly on the floor. Mike stretched his arm out to stop the little one, but his glance fell on Davy's body – and he stopped halfway.

There was nothing on that pure golden skin, Davy was radiating his usual warm dim light of the little pulsing life – Mike saw Davy's body as everybody knew it, nothing less and nothing more. And nothing – not a wound, not a bruise, not a single _scratch _spoiled it. Mike made a step back, shocked, ready to run away – and at that same moment Davy made a step towards him.

- No. Mike, please. Don't.

Davy's voice was trembling and by a look in his eyes Mike knew that the little one was absolutely unaware of what had happened the previous night – he knew even less than Mike. And Mike understood how wrong he was about his little mate, and a sudden flash of sympathy stung his heart. Mike bent down to pick up Davy's shirt and handed it to him. But Davy didn't even look at it. He stepped even closer to Mike and nearly whispered, looking him in the eye:

- Mike, you _must_ know. In the morning you said to me such things – I know that you know. Mike. What's happening to me?..

Semiconscious, Mike pressed Davy close to his chest and said quietly:

- I don't know, babe. If I only could find out…

Davy snuggled up to him and exhaled:

- But that's _definitely_ something wrong. I don't know what exactly, but you see – such terrible wounds like the ones I had don't usually disappear in _two days_, do they? I… I'm not sure they weren't gone even yesterday...

- Wait! – Mike grabbed Davy's shoulders. – Nobody changed your bandages since that list time I did it, right?

Davy nodded.

- And today, when I went to the bathroom, I felt quite uncomfortable with those bandages, so I decided to check…

He looked down with a sigh and Mike squeezed him again, expecting that he will pull away because of such indiscretion – he just didn't know what else to do. However, it seemed to help. Davy leaned on Mike and continued:

- I didn't tell anybody. In fact, I wouldn't tell even you if you didn't say… all you said in the morning. Mike, - he looked up at his friend, eyes full of worry. – What did you see then? What happened at night?

And again Mike doubted. Maybe he should tell Davy just for him to be aware? Maybe he would be able to stay normal if he knew?

But then he threw this thought away. He – just – couldn't frighten Davy even more.

- Nothing special, - he said calmly. – You were having a shower in the middle of the night. That's all.

- And you got so scared? – doubt sounded in Davy's voice. He leaned back a little and squinted.

- Yes, - Mike answered firmly, releasing him.

- Okay, - Davy shrugged.

He took his shirt from Mike and thrust his arms into the sleeves. Then he stopped and looked up at Mike.

- Listen… as you know everything anyway, though you don't want to tell me… I have one thing to tell you. You know, that night, when I came back bleeding… I wasn't alone. There was a man. You know, I saw him when the dog ran away, he told me that he scared it away. And he walked me – well, better to say carried me back here. Don't know how, but it might help you… in your search.

And he quickly redid the buttons of the shirt and headed to the door, but Mike caught his elbow.

- He-ey. What did you just say? – he inquired.

- What?

- Stop kidding. Search – what about search?

- Did I say 'search'? – Davy asked quite in surprise – and Mike understood he'd better not ask.

- Nothing, - he said quickly letting go. – I must've misheard.

Davy smiled with the corners of his mouth and turned to Mike.

- Listen. You just don't tell anybody. Neither about the wounds, nor about that night or the man. Will you? Please.

Mike smiled at him sincerely.

- Don't worry, babe. If I haven't told anybody yet – which I haven't – you can be sure you can rely on me.

Davy smiled wider, with visible relief.

- Thank you.

- We're friends, - Mike said softly. He tapped Davy's cheek friendly and left the room.

* * *

Mike needed to go to bed as soon as possible not to meet the demon in Davy's body accidentally. But that short but sincere talk with the little one changed his mind a lot. Before – and Mike thought of it in shame – he was ready to _kill_ Davy if his own safety or safety of the guys in the group - or all people in town - required it.

But then the picture of two cold evil stars was replaced by another one – of the eyes he'd just looked in. Those deep eyes, honest – and scared; the look of dark wild honey, so sweet and desired – but with bitterness on the bottom. Through those eyes one could easily look him deep into soul – but only if the little man would let them. The feeling of Davy's soft naked skin and the warmth of his body was still on Mike's hands and breast – and in the heart like a sweet memory. And another kind of confidence filled his mind. Now he was ready to give _his own life _for the sake of saving Davy.

* * *

Mike got out of the bath and took the towel quickly. He had already made up a plan. He was going to go to bed as soon as he got out of the bathroom - and he would sleep, he would stay in bed whatever wakes him up at night. Mike rubbed his body furiously – this made him feel real and helped to throw away all the thoughts about demons. Okay, now he wore his pyjama and… wait, what?

Something stopped him. Something caught his eye. He looked at the bag with the laundry again and understood what it was. It was Davy's holiday shirt – the one he was wearing that night when Mike found his diabolic part. Mike knelt down near the bag and looked at the shirt fixedly. It looked quite innocent, but something told Mike he _had to_ check. He touched the shirt cautiously, as if it was about to jump at him.

Of course, it did nothing. He just felt the fabric. Mike took the shirt out of the bag with the laundry – it was folded extremely and strangely neatly, nobody of the boys folded their dirty things like this. The voice inside of Mike's skull said to him persistently: 'Unfold', and Mike couldn't disobey. Trembling, he unfolded the shirt – and his heart skipped a beat…

Large dark brown stains. They seemed to grow, they looked bigger every second.

The shirt was _soaked_ with _blood_...

Mike felt strange weakness in his knees. Dark and shiny bright spots ran in front of his eyes, a wave of qualm raised from the depth of his stomach, he leaned back on the bath and squeezed his head with his hands, trying to close his eyes. But the shirt appeared on the dark screen of his eyelids, qualm- and headache-coloured, stains like dark growing pulsing abysses on the white. Mike groaned, rubbing his eyes desperately.

_Disappear, disappear, you can't be real!_

But when he opened his eyes again, the shirt was on the same place. Mike grabbed it and hid it on the bottom of the bag with the laundry as fast as he could. Nobody was about to see it. _Nobody_. _Especially_ Davy.

He left the bathroom shivering, wrapping himself in a robe, and hurried upstairs. He slipped under the blanket and closed his eyes praying for the easing sleep to come fast. And Morpheus didn't make Mike wait too long.

* * *

The wild honey eyes. Dark desperation and fear. That was all he could see, even though he tried his best to concentrate on the one whom he was looking at.

- It is dangerous. We should get rid of everything that is a menace for us. For the sake of safety. Not only of the group, but of the whole world.

- No!

- Mike.

Micky's eyes were cold and Mike wished he'd never see them this way. He looked down – and the amber despair overwhelmed him again.

- You understand it purely, - Micky said slowly and firmly, as if writing his words in stone. – As well as I do. It's ridiculous and stupid, and it's scary and violent to risk millions of innocent lives for one – I do dare say – guilty. And all because _you_, Mike, are so attached to the one person who is _dangerous_.

- Micky…

Micky's head slowly turned from right to left. No. Mike's heart fell somewhere deep down. This professor's, no, judge's voice – where had Micky got it?

- Peter?..

Peter shrugged. He didn't manage to make up his mind on the problem, so he followed the stronger one.

- Mike, you should understand. We all love Davy, but Micky's right – it's dangerous. Really dangerous. We can't… - he swallowed, - _keep_ him.

A glance down – and the wild honey-coloured pain stung his heart.

A nod.

Yes.

Davy was doomed and he didn't want Mike to suffer in fight for him. In the middle of the pain he was silently letting Mike do whatever he'd decide to. He was ready. Mike raised his head.

- No. You won't kill him just because something made him what he is now. Do you kill ill people just because they can make you ill as well?

- It's a different thing, - Micky was so unbearably calm. – Ill people can be cured. The ones who can't most often can't infect anyone. Can he be cured, tell me, Mike? The ones who can infect and can't be cured are kept somewhere far away from people's eyes. But look at him - he's an _animal_!

- HE'S A _LIVING_ THING!

Tears sprung out of Mike's eyes. He was desperate as never before. He threw himself on Micky, but something jumped in front of him – and sudden warmth wrapped Mike. Little strong arms hugged his neck. Mike stopped and pressed the pulsing life close – it was that same warmth, felt only once but already so desired and so beloved.

As the red painful mist faded away, it was replaced by the beautiful landscape: a roundish silhouette of the golden shoulder and the sea of the chocolate hair on the edge of the sight. Davy… he squeezed Mike, embraced his head with one arm, forcing him to lean down – and a hot whisper and a slight touch of soft lips burned his ear:

- Mike… Mike, don't… please… don't…

But this quiet begging was unnecessary – Mike wouldn't move, partly shocked and partly just not wanting to let go. Davy's breath enveloped his ear and a hot wet whisper went on:

- Mike. Listen. You don't have to. I don't want anything to be wrong – and I don't want to harm you. And I can, you know it. You know it even better than I do. Don't. Mike. I'm ready for everything. If I die, it would only be for the better – Mike, it would be for your safety!

- Are you with me or with them? – Mike exhaled, tears running down his cheeks. – Maybe I _don't_ want safety, did you ever think of asking me? Maybe I want _your_ safety, ha?

His voice was trembling and he had to stop.

- I'm with you. You know I always will be, - Davy answered sadly, leaning on Mike. – Thank you. Thank you for everything. For this… touch. For these last words. Thank you, Mike. Farewell.

And before Mike could move, before he could do anything, with soft and confident move Davy took his friend's face in both his hands and kissed him on the forehead with one long burning touch – and released him. Then he turned to Micky and Peter.

- Farewell, guys. I'm ready. Do what you must, - he stepped towards them, so strong and confident. – Everything will be okay. I regret nothing and nothing can help me. Here I am. Go on.

Mike reached to catch him – but Davy was suddenly far away. Everything and everyone except them two disappeared and the walls and tables and all the things turned into the large open fire. The little man was standing at the door in the wall of high flames without hesitation, ready to step into it. Mike ran towards him shouting at him ("Davy! Davy! Don't, stop, I know the answer! I can bring you back, I can make you that same old Davy!") but his feet didn't move and his throat couldn't make a single sound. David turned the last time and gave Mike a long bitter look of goodbye. A smile touched his lips – and Davy stepped into the fire and it covered his body…

* * *

A roaring scream broke out of his breast – and he woke up in sweat, heart pounding, shaking with fear.

* * *

He couldn't help but quickly throw the blanket away and get up. He hurried to the bedroom door and downstairs, and once there – to Peter and Davy's bedroom. The door wasn't closed and light was behind it. Mike threw the door open – and it blinded him for a second or two. Fierce blinking – and as the image returned he saw Davy, normal Davy, _worried_ Davy, Davy who was standing by Peter – mentioned Peter was sitting on his bed shirtless and there was a deep wound on his shoulder. Davy, with concerned face, was carefully wiping the blood off with a big handkerchief – God knows where he got it. Peter's shirt, stained with blood, was on the floor, thrown away in hurry. As the door hit the wall, the guys both raised their heads and looked at Mike. Relief flashed on Davy's face and he left the handkerchief to Peter, who seemed to be quite able to help himself.

- Mike! Oh, I'm so glad you woke up! I hope it wasn't us who woke you.

- No, - Mike answered, voice still hoarse but eyes sharp to notice every single wrong thing. – What happened?

A worried and concerned expression returned to Davy's face.

- Something attacked Peter. I think it was a dog. It didn't manage to do much, I scared it away. You know, we've just came, I didn't have time to do anything smarter to help him.

- Call the doctor. Immediately! – Mike cut off sharply. He suddenly felt how utterly real his nightmare could become if anybody even _thought_ something wrong about Davy, and his heart skipped a beat. Davy was obedient and quickly disappeared. Mike sat on the bed near Peter

- How are you? – he asked worriedly.

- Okay, - Peter winced. – It hurts, but I'll be all right.

- So what exactly happened?

- Hey gu-uys?

It was Micky. He stood at the door, leaning on the door frame.

- Mike, good morning - I guess, I have the right to say so at half past midnight. It's just that you screamed so loudly that even I woke up. And then you were down here for too long, don't you think, so I decided…

At this moment as he was slowly waking up he seemed to finally notice Peter.

- Hey! – he frowned. – What happened here?

- That's what I was trying to find out, - Mike remarked. – Maybe you'll let Pete tell us?

- Oh yes, I'd like to hear it, - Micky said, putting his bottom on the bed on the other side of Peter.

- Well, we… were walking with Davy… - Peter began.

Mike's heart fell deep down and then jumped back up to his throat for no apparent reason. He did his best not to let it show as Peter went on:

- We decided to go the shortest way back here and we were walking down that quiet peaceful street, when suddenly… - he squeezed his head with his hands. – Oh, I don't remember exactly. Something jumped on me from the side and I think I was turned off. When I woke up, Davy said he scared away that dog and he helped me back here.

- Guys!

This time it was Davy who came. The doctor he brought with him looked at the group in surprise.

- Hey boys! Wasn't it you who got a young man attacked by a dog just a couple of days ago?

- Yes, you're right, - Mike said, feeling it was his duty to talk on that matter. – But as you see he's quite well now, but we've got another one in not such… em… good condition.

- Yeah, I see, - the doctor said, stepping towards Peter. – Let me look at this, young man.

Peter took the handkerchief off and doc looked at the wound.

- My friend! – he exclaimed suddenly. – What a kind she must've been!

- Who? – Peter asked, surprised.

- The girl who left you this! – doctor looked shocked. – Just look at this, young men, it's clearly a wound left by the human teeth! Of course, it must've been quite a strong human to bite… this, - he swallowed. – Listen, boy, what happened to you?

- I… I don't understand, - Peter said, surprised. – Davy said it was a dog…

All the eyes turned to Davy – and Mike felt his heart in his throat again. It was he who had to help Davy.

- But it really _was_ a dog, - the little one tried to protect himself, casting a scared glance at Mike.

- I think it really _was _a dog, - Mike answered calmly, though all his insides curled in one little heavy ball. – You don't think that some cannibal maniac, especially the maniac who looked like a dog, would jump at them in the quiet street and bite Peter, do you?

To be honest, now Mike was ready to believe in anything – even that Davy bit Peter. He stared at the teeth traces on Peter's shoulder as doctor was carefully wiping the blood off, trying to remember them.

- Well, maybe you're right, - doctor agreed easily. – Sometimes people keep such beasts as their pets! They should be ashamed… yes, it could be a dog. There's a great possibility. Yes, you're right. We'll have to put some stitches.

Peter nodded, understanding. Mike smiled with the corners of his lips, so uptight inside. He withdrew as soon as he could, ran upstairs and into the bedroom and slipped under the blanket.

But he never managed to fall asleep again that night. Thoughts spun inside his head, scratching his poor skull, something was knocking in his head, trying to go outside, all in all what always was Mike's simple and familiar head turned into something like a cage for a bunch of wild thoughts closed inside. Mike lied suffering for the rest of the night, and early in the morning he got up, not able to stand it anymore, got dressed and went to the library, which was surely closed. Mike sat down on the stairs and sat there with his face buried in his hands, with a terrible headache. And as Mrs Tailor came with a couple of others to open the library, she found him right there…


	7. The Day He Found Out

A/N: So this time you and Mike will find out what's happening, but the main question comes out – what to do and how to do it. This one is quite big, but I wrote it at one go and hope you enjoy. I'm trying my best – at least one of the best ^) – for your pleasure, so keep on reading as the most interesting goes on and gets even _more_ interesting.

* * *

**Chapter 7. The day he found out.**

No doubt that as soon as Mike was let in the quiet library, he hurried to his seat and dug deep in his research. He wasn't hungry although he hadn't eaten anything since evening and soon even all the laziness disappeared. All the scary thoughts about Davy attacking Peter and biting him and the image of the diabolic eyes still haunting him faded and hid somewhere behind the corner of the mind. Now all that mattered was the possibility of finding the way of helping Davy.

Mike was reading on and on finding nothing. Finally he got tired of it all and hunger made itself felt. Mike got up and told Mrs Tailor he was going out to drink some coffee. As his exhaust after the nearly-sleepless night made itself felt as well, coffee was right what Mike needed. Mrs Tailor told him about a nice café around the corner where he could sit with nobody bothering him and just listen to music and where he could order a nice bite to eat. Mike smiled at her as he was leaving.

It was warm outside, the sun was shining. The day was surely going to be wonderful. Mike found the café easily and chose the table in the corner. It had only one chair so nobody would sit near him and a wonderful view of the flower shop. Everything was so fresh and beautiful, floating in the sun, that Mike couldn't believe that the mystic things happening to him were real. Maybe it all was just a terrible nightmare? Maybe it was _his_ paranoia?

Mike shook his head. No. It all was for real, though he'd be glad if he woke up right now to _normal_ Davy.

A tall thin waitress, who reminded him of a willow, came up to him. Mike ordered himself a bite to eat and some coffee and she smiled at him, nodded slightly and went away. She was polite and truly friendly. Mike rarely met such waitresses.

Having nothing to do, he started looking through the fresh newspaper on the table – maybe somebody left it there or maybe the café provided a newspaper for every table. Most of the information was usual and a little surreal, as it seemed to Mike in his condition – his feet seemed to be off the ground. But one article caught his eye. It was the one by young journalist, he knew her – she was a nice girl, once she fell in love with Davy, but quickly pulled herself together and forgot it. 'Over One Man's Nature' - the title said, and below those large letters the commentary went: 'This is the story by (her name) about what she thinks is important for everyone to know'.

As Mike knew, that journalist wouldn't say that something was important if it really wasn't, moreover write and publish the story about it. The waitress brought Mike's order and he started eating while reading. It wasn't a report – it was an article, and even better to say – a story.

* * *

_'I want to write this just because I think it's important, whatever it means – I just feel that somebody – you – really needs it. This is a story I happened to watch just sitting in the park on the bench – you know, such a lovely quiet habit for a girl of my age… each evening I watched the next episode of this movie-in-life._

_The first evening when I saw them they were just a nice young couple to me. I somehow love watching other young couples – they inspire me. So I watched those two as they were passing by, all so in love, and the boy said to the girl: 'Don't you think it'd be nice to meet each and every evening at the same time at the same place and walk the same road?' She asked what for. And he said: 'Just so we don't look anywhere around, because we're so used to it we don't notice it and we just know only we two exist'. She laughed and kissed him and said: 'Oh, it's a brilliant idea, honey'._

_So you may guess as it's my habit to spend evenings just sitting on the same bench in the same park to just think of no matter what, I saw them again the next evening. They walked past me three or four times, talking and laughing, and then the park became absolutely empty. The two said goodbye and the girl went in one direction and the boy in opposite one. He was passing by me again, but he didn't see me. He walked a few steps past the bench – and suddenly a dark figure jumped out of nowhere and on the guy, he fell – and I saw there was a man pressing him to the ground. Well, I just saw his silhouette, but it was clear that a man was holding the unmoving guy – I might be wrong, but it seemed like he was biting him, biting into him, the Adam's apple on the man's neck was moving up and down so it awfully reminded what I can call bloodsucking. _

_I sat frightened, not knowing what to do, may this poor guy forgive me. They were just a few steps from me. I still don't know who that man was – in fact, he could be just a madman, a runaway from somewhere, a maniac at last, but I still think he was somehow more than this. However, he suddenly released the poor fellow, stood up, licked his lips – I could hear that wet, animal sound, then suddenly all his body shook from head to toe – and something strange happened then. The man gasped, knelt down near the guy and tapped his cheeks a little – you know, like people usually do when they're trying to wake the unconscious one up. The guy groaned – I could understand that he woke up. The man helped him to stand up and said: 'That's all right. There was a huge dog that jumped on you. I scared it away, it's okay now. How are you?' The guy said something barely understandable, and the man shook his head. I heard his worried voice: 'Oh my, you're bleeding… I'll walk you home. Just tell me where you live'. The poor guy mumbled something and they went slowly to disappear in the dark._

_I didn't sleep that night. I just lied in bed thinking about it all. And I decided for myself to meet that girl when she comes to see her lover and to tell her everything that had happened. I was somehow sure that the guy wouldn't come, or he would behave strangely._

_As soon as I finished work, I went home, changed into more comfortable clothes, had a snack and hurried to the park. I sat on that same bench and waited. But, to my surprise, the two met in the park and they hugged and kissed and walked talking past me, and I could hear that their talks were the usual talks of us young lovers. I watched them, trying to find out anything wrong – and I saw that, first, the guy was strangely pale, and second – the more they talked, the more the girl got somehow uptight. The boy suggested walking her home and they disappeared._

_However, right at the moment I thought I should go home and sleep well and maybe see the doctor, the guy appeared. His moves were like an animal's, but what surprised me more was a look of his eyes. I could see them shine like two cold stars, and there was something evil about them… he didn't seem to see me, but I was so scared I tried to breathe less. I think I did it, in fact. The fear overwhelmed me. He looked around, ran quickly and quietly past me and hid behind the huge tree right near my bench. I didn't dare to move, but that time I was excited and frightened equally. We both waited – the guy must've been waiting for his prey and I – for his further actions. Finally some girl passed by…_

_You can easily guess what happened next. The guy repeated every single action the man did to him, even his words to girl when he woke her up were exactly the same: 'That's all right. There was a huge dog that jumped on you. I scared it away, it's okay now. How are you?' She thanked him in tears, he suggested walking her home – and they disappeared in the dark. I got up and went home wondering. The next evening on my way to the park I saw the couple in the café. I waited for them on my bench patiently, but they passed by me only once – I guess they were going to the guy's home. At least they were walking in that direction. That night I hadn't seen them again, so I went back home._

_Another time I saw the couple the girl was even more uptight. The guy seemed to worry. They were talking short sharp phrases and then remained silent for quite a long time to break it with the next quick phrase thrown._

_When it was time to say goodbye they had a great quarrel and the girl cried. They were whispering and shouting and finally she held him, he tried to pull away – but she wouldn't let go. Suddenly his eyes shone with that same cold evil shine and he bit her. But she didn't fight, she didn't scream. With a bitter smile on her face she pressed him close. The guy tried to pull away again several times but he couldn't. I saw something like an agony in the way he started shaking. The girl smiled till the end. Finally her arms released the boy's head and shoulders, she fell on the ground, so soft, eyes closed, with that smile on her face. The guy stepped back and wiped his mouth with his hand. Then suddenly he shook from head to toe, started – and realized what he had done. He groaned and fell on his knees near her. He cried and he couldn't stop – and she couldn't hear him. Any longer. Any more. I got up and withdrew quietly and quickly, so confused. I ran all the way home and I somehow didn't know how it all would be in the morning._

_All next day long I was out of myself, I was thinking of those two and of the girl who let the guy kill her so simply. I was wondering what for. In the evening my feet brought me to the park without me wanting them to. I obeyed the inner voice and sat on that same bench. And can you imagine my surprise when that couple walked past me all so lovey-dovey!_

_I saw them again and again – all in all I'd been seeing them every day, all the following evenings. Just a little time ago they got married. They're happy. I have no clue what it all might mean, but it all is true, I saw it all with my own eyes. The same little inner voice keeps telling me that it's important. I hope you really-really need this, the one who it is meant for.'_

* * *

Mike raised his head, eyes wide, absolutely shocked. He barely remembered how he had got back to the library. He could recall that he paid in the café not sure that the change he told them to keep wasn't about twice the price itself. He hit about two trees and seven people on his way. What's more, he fell twice and hit the door when he was at the library entrance. At that moment he was sitting at the table still amazed. Suddenly, understanding flashed in front of his eyes – and he shook his head fiercely and grabbed the book of 'The Newest Warriors in The Dark Forces'. His eyes absorbed the words which, after reading the story, made perfect sense.

* * *

_'First of all, I would like to remark – I'm not a witch. But I'm neither a writer – just so you don't accuse me of fiction. I'm just a woman who knows about the forces of the evil. But, then again, the fact that I know about them doesn't make me come in contact with them. My everyday work is not less dangerous, though. I watch them. Which only sounds safe and calm. Examining them, studying them is sometimes more dangerous business than even fighting them. Especially if you remember that the dark forces are getting new warriors – and warriors of new kinds – every day._

_Yes, the army of Evil is growing. But the warriors of the new century are different. They are most often recruited without their will but by force, and they don't even know they've been recruited. Their minds become somehow divided into two parts. The one is the servant of the Evil, it lives and grows like ivy and it tangles over the rests of the living soul and occupies the mind. And the other part remains the same, but it gets pressed, it doesn't know what others see clearly, it suffers and it gets lost, it gets weak and it gives up – and the poor body, overfilled with evil and not able to bear it any more, dies. The evil part usually goes hunting at night to find food and the new recruits as well. Sometimes it wears a mask of a usual part just to fool the prey. It does what the Evil makes it do, it doesn't care about the body it occupies. The body gets worn out and it is twice dangerous as those poor recruits can yet be saved._

_Yes, that's right; the servants of the Evil recruited by force could always be taken back. The warriors of this century are mostly the prisoners of love, and the scariest sacrifice is needed to save them. People of this crazy century rarely dare to give their own precious life to save anybody other. But that's the sacrifice, that's the price people need to pay for each and every recruit turned back – a life, one life, a person who decided to give their own heart beating for the sake of rescuing the ones they love. The lifeblood they pour is full of pure love the Evil can't bear. It gets killed – but it takes the life of the recruit's saviour with it. There is only one hope for the ones who dare to sacrifice themselves – that's the hope that the returned one loves them back and he or she pours the tears of their love over the dead body. If love is real, the dead body gets new blood with the first rays of sunshine, it breathes in – and the person wakes up'…_

* * *

Mike swallowed hard and put the book away. The news overwhelmed him. Yes, he really _could_ give his life for Davy, but it didn't mean he was _ready_ to give his life like this. If it was the choice of one moment, it would be the one and only – to run recklessly to save the little mate's life and no hesitation. But now he had hours. No, days. He had plenty of time to think of all the pros and cons – and he could see clearly that there were more cons. _Much_ more cons.

First of all, he would be dead, Mike counted swallowing hard as he walked slowly down the street towards the pad. He would be dead with no guarantee of returning to life – even if Davy really _felt_ anything, he wouldn't pour a single tear, he was too strong – he had always been a fighter. Mike sighed. Maybe it would be better if Davy had a little weakness, just a little. For Mike to have a hope.

Secondly, Mike counted another finger in his thoughts, he wasn't sure that the _brotherly_ love they felt to each other was enough. Yes, they loved each other, all the boys in the group, and it was a pure brotherly feeling that made them save each other's lives sometimes a few times a day. Mike could even say he loved Davy the most – he didn't know why. But was that feeling the love that the writer was talking about? Maybe the love she meant was the love that appears between a man and a woman and makes them spend the rest of their lives together? Mike didn't know and it made him even more frightened. It was not only the fact that he could die for nothing, but also the fact that in that case Davy wouldn't be saved from the sharp claws of Evil and he would die as well, just a little later, and nobody would know what's wrong and nobody would save him…

The only thought of it made Mike tremble with fear and his heart fall deep down. If he did _anything_ wrong it would lead to Davy's death, and Mike couldn't leave the little one. But the scariest thing was that to save Davy Mike had to _want_ it with all his heart. _Want _to die for Davy without wanting anything back. He had to persuade himself before his little mate's condition got any worse. Mike was so deep in thought he didn't even notice that the guys said hello to him as he entered the pad. He went straight upstairs and sat on his bed trying hard to persuade himself Davy was more important than his fear for his own skin. He wasn't quite successful, though, and when he finally raised his head, he was surprised to see Davy sitting waiting patiently on Micky's bed.

- Hey, - Mike threw. – I didn't notice you.

- What are you thinking about? – Davy asked, looking him in the eye.

- Nothing special, - Mike lied without thinking.

- You are pale, even Peter would notice something is wrong. What's bugging you?

- Is that it you want to talk to me about? – Mike asked sarcastically.

- Yes. Maybe. I don't know. Mike.

- What, babe? - Mike replied, dropping his head on his hands again.

- Tell me what's wrong.

- You'll know it yourself. Soon, - Mike said not looking at the little one.

- Mike.

Davy got up, sat on the bed near Mike and put a gentle arm around him. Mike looked at him, disturbed – and met wild honey coloured sympathy and worry. Davy's little hand was under Mike's arm – he was never comfortable reaching his shoulders, - his warmth was so close and Mike wanted so to trust him, to be able to tell him everything…

But he swallowed the words in his throat and they curled into a small and heavy ball under his heart. Mike put his arm around Davy's shoulders.

- Listen. I can't tell you. _Even_ you. Please, don't ask. It's… yet not clear to me as well.

- Is it because of me?

Mike knew he shouldn't look down. He gazed into Davy's deep eyes through which he could see his soul and asked quietly:

- Why do you think so?

Davy sighed.

- So, it's me. I'm to blame. I must be such a monster if I bother you so much… - he stopped for a second and then went on bitterly: - Do you know the funniest thing? I don't remember what happened tonight. Peter and Micky were talking about it and Peter was thanking me – and I don't even remember!

His voice trembled and he pressed closer to Mike.

- When they asked me about my wounds – how they were – I had to lie, I said the most idiotic things… it was terrible to lie to them and to run away. Mike, something is happening to me. Something…

- _Nothing_ happens to you, - Mike said firmly. – You'll be okay soon. This I promise. Believe me.

Davy sighed and put his head on Mike's shoulder.

- You know I do…

Days ago, when this move was so playful and absolutely Davy-ish, Mike would push him away laughing. But now it wasn't funny and Mike just stroked the little one's shoulder.

- You know, you shouldn't be a monster to make me worry about you, - he said sincerely. – Whatever happens to you, I care. Remember – I always care. And I always will. I won't let you fall. I'll be there always. I'll be with you.

- I'm not a little boy, you know, - Davy began, but then stopped and sighed. – And I care, too.


	8. The Night Of Persuasion

**Chapter 8. The night of persuasion.**

Mike had been tumbling in bed for two hours already. It was one o'clock AM and he went to bed at eleven in the evening just because he didn't know what else to do. He didn't see or hear anything as his head was filled with thoughts of Davy and his own precious life he had to give for the little one. Mike didn't have much time and he knew it. He had to persuade himself he _wanted_ it, and all those hours since Davy had left the room and up to that very moment we found him he had been trying his best to make himself _want_. But he couldn't.

Mike sighed and turned again to lay on his back. In fact, why was his life so dear to him? He wasn't afraid of death and dying. He knew he wouldn't ever stop existing completely and _something_ would live on when he's dead. He was never afraid of pain or serious injuries – as a boy, he cheated death a million times and he was used to being hurt and slowly lost most of his fear for himself. He found out it all wasn't as scary as some folks imagine – being hurt. Pain wasn't something unusual or especially scary. No, what Mike was afraid of was stopping being for the ones he loved.

This group taught him a lot of things. With the boys he learned to be afraid again – but it was that fear that lives in the heart of mother of the little child, in the heart of a loving brother or a caring husband. It was the fear of losing them, of stopping having something to do for them. And not abstract 'them'… Mike appreciated Peter's kind heart and didn't really mind his half-empty head, he enjoyed Micky's insanity and liked his ability to say right words in right situation, though it showed not as usual as he'd like it to… but Davy was different. And it was something different that he felt to Davy. And, funny, he was afraid of losing him the most.

Davy… Mike had something about him, something – he didn't know what. But Davy felt it. And he was letting Mike like him – he played with him, like that idiotic morning after the mad night when the little one came to the pad bleeding – infected, recruited by force.

These words stung Mike's heart. Seeing suffering in Davy's amber eyes stung him even more. And even though Davy might play with him in the most embarrassing way for Mike, he trusted Mike the most – and this only made Mike attached to him even more. Attached… no, that was the wrong word. It was not simply an attachment. Neither was it admiration or anything as shallow. In fact, if he wasn't so afraid of the word, Mike would call it love. But this word usually made people around him think of something else, so he wouldn't say it even to himself.

Mike turned again and curled in his bed like a little animal. So what was he so afraid of in death? Was he so afraid of stopping existing? No, Mike admitted. He knew it was impossible. Was he afraid of pain? Mike imagined Davy biting into his naked neck, biting fiercely, like a predator, to kill him. Nothing was so scary about this. He could nearly feel it, but he didn't fear it. It wasn't pleasant, wasn't at all, but somehow it wasn't the worst thing that could happen to him.

And if so, what was the worst? Mike thought of all the times he'd been really scared. It was when Davy could go to England and they – he – would lose him forever. He recalled himself as his heart was falling deep each time he dared to think that he wouldn't be ever able to see the little one again… every time Davy's ambitious plans – oh, how ambitious he had always been! – were dangerous for him – not for them all, not for Mike, for Davy himself – Mike felt that strange kind of fear and always wondered – why? Why did he worry about the little one? All in all, it was his business. If Mike let him do what he wanted. everybody'd be satisfied! But it always came out wrong. Not everybody was satisfied from the start. Mike – however idiotic it would sound – knew better. Always better. It was terrible – seeing forward. Mike would sell it for a chance – now – of saving Davy in a less dangerous way.

Mike sighed and turned on another side. So why did he care so much? Funny – another side made another topic. Mike ran his hand through his hair and then put his both hands under the pillow. Why? He cared about Peter and Micky, but why should Davy mean so much to him? Was Davy something important, more important than others, more important than even Mike himself?

Mike sighed. Davy was. Davy really _was_ that important. And, to be honest, after such a sincere talk to himself Mike was ready to say – he was more afraid of losing Davy than of losing his own life. Yes, now he had enough courage to admit it. Mike opened his eyes – and gasped, and sat on his bed, then jumped off of it. Micky was gone…

Mike didn't have to go downstairs to know Davy was gone too. He sat slowly back on his bed and ran his fingers through his hair.

- Oh. My. God.

A little verbal expression of his feelings calmed Mike down a bit. Now he could think – but what was here to think about? He knew that soon Davy would come home with Micky and Micky would be bitten, and they'd call the doctor, and the doctor would get suspicious again. Maybe Mike would be able to persuade him Davy was innocent the second time. But doc would suspect something wrong anyway. And what will it be? Mike realized he really had to hurry up. Suddenly something flashed in his mind and his heart fell somewhere deep down. Peter! The new recruit Peter Tork, is _he_ home? Mike nearly flew downstairs and threw the door into the bedroom open.

Both beds were neat and untouched. All three guys were gone… the picture appeared in front of Mike's eyes: those three beasts occupying the bodies of his friends in front of him. What if they were still hungry? What if Micky wasn't enough? What if Micky was Davy's prey and he, Mike, was Peter's or vice versa? Or did Davy have special plans for him? And – was it Davy who had those plans? Maybe it was better to go to bed and pretend to sleep?

But Mike wasn't given any time to think. The door flew open and Mike saw two figures in front of him. Davy and Peter.

- Mike? Whenever we come you're always awake, – Peter remarked, not stopping laughing.

- Oh knock it off, - Davy answered pushing him. – Mike, we went out all three, I hope you weren't worried much?

- Ha… ha-a, - Mike managed as all his insides curled into a little heavy ball somewhere in the abdomen.

- Oh my, we shocked him, - Davy remarked in a strange voice, walking in. – Don't worry about Micky, Mike, when we were walking something attacked him – I think we're cursed with these dogs. We took him to the doctor and he said he'd come back by himself.

- Okay, - Mike forced himself.

Peter went to the bathroom casually and Davy headed to the bedroom. But he stopped halfway as if he had remembered something, looked back – and two cold evil stars sparkled in front of Mike, squeezing his heart with the cold animal fear.

- Tomorrow, - the monster hissed with Davy's lips, and then turned his back to Mike and disappeared in the bedroom.


	9. The Day of Fight

A/N: Well, I don't know if I've gotta be sorry, but the site's motto says 'Unleash', so here I somehow unleashed… don't worry, nothing too naughty, it's just gets more desperate and more, like, psychological. Another little Mike/Davy-ish touch pour votre plaisir. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 9. The day of fight.**

Of course all Mike spent the rest of the night doing was thinking if he was _really_ about to give his life for Davy, because the last word the little one threw at Mike filled him with doubt. In the morning when he had to get up he was still in doubt. Micky returned when it was already grey outside and he had energy only to fall on the bed and fall asleep immediately. Mike thought he was lost, but thought of it briefly. When he finally got up and he didn't have to go to the library or whatever, he felt empty. That day he had to choose whether he wanted to give his life or not. Because that night he would be giving his life – or just he would be a new recruit in the dark forces… and they _all _would die. The entire group would be doomed. Mike felt so responsible for them all, but God… he wasn't so sure any more. The new tomorrow brought only doubt. All the courage had disappeared.

As Mike was washing his face, he heard the guys gathering downstairs. He recognized them by steps – and now he noticed it and felt how he really loved them. He noticed Peter and felt something, but when he heard Davy's footsteps…

They were like nobody else's. The only thought that that was his last day stung Mike's heart. But he made himself leave the bathroom and smile weakly to Davy and Peter. He decided not to tell them what had happened that night. He knew they wouldn't remember.

- Good morn, - he greeted softly.

Davy looked at him and sighed – Mike didn't know why. Maybe Davy had noticed something in his eyes, but that was unlikely. Davy looked haggard. He dropped his heavy head on his hands sitting at the kitchen table. Peter smiled with the corners of his lips. The monster inside him hadn't yet eaten all his life out of him, so he looked more alive.

- Damn it…

The quiet curse made the three guys turn their heads to the one direction. Micky was walking slowly down the stairs, wincing.

- What happened? – Mike asked, not realizing what answer he might get.

- Those two idiots left me at the doctor's with no clue how to get back! – Micky managed, leaning on the railing.

- Wh… what? – Davy asked quietly, and his voice was hoarse and unfamiliar.

- You heard me, - Micky threw, heading heavily to the couch. – Do we have any aspirin?

- What happened yesterday? – Davy's scared look moved to Mike. Micky gave a bitter laugh.

- Ah, and you were drunken! How didn't I notice… oh, man, but I just didn't EXPECT!

He sat up and shouted the last word out. Everybody was silent. Micky looked at every one of the guys in order and then stood up.

- Somebody tell me what's going on here! – he exclaimed. – You all are hiding something, I don't even know what! Am I the only one normal in this madhouse? This one, - his finger pointed to Mike, - doesn't sleep at night and thinks of something so desperately – what are you thinking about, my dear? – his words were about to be sarcastic, but something more like tears sounded in them. Then his finger moved to Davy. – This one goes out every damn night and even the doctor suspects he's insane and bites people! And this one, - his trembling finger pointed at Peter, - is… is… with _this_ one! – back to Davy.

Micky was nearly hysterical. Mike stepped towards him.

- Micky, man…

- WHAT?

Mike stopped and looked at him, a little scared.

- What in the world? They don't even remember what happens at night, what is wrong in this house, I keep on asking?

- NOBODY KNOWS!

This sudden shout made Micky shut up and take a step back.

- Nobody, - Mike repeated. – Nobody is even sure that something is really wrong. Calm down, will ya?

Mike looked at everybody – they were silent, three pair of eyes staring at him.

- Okay, - he said firmly. – Now, Micky, you – tell us, what happened at night. As you know, I wasn't there with you.

- They, - Micky started, swallowing hard, - took me out God knows for what. We were walking down the street when suddenly two huge dogs jumped at me and the next thing I remember is their faces – well, of these two, they leaned over me. They took me to the doctor and left me there telling me they'd better go home as the doctor told them there was nothing special. You may look.

And he put his leg on the couch about to show Mike something – but stopped.

- Hey, - he said frowning. – Where is it?

- What? – Mike asked, his heart pumping in his throat.

- A wound, - Micky explained. – I had one on my leg, right here, and one on my… shoulder…

He stopped, because he had nothing on his shoulder, as everybody could clearly see. He examined the room and fell on the couch and squeezed his temples with his hands.

- Now what? – Mike asked helplessly, looking at Davy and Peter. But they sat shocked, looking at Micky and Mike himself.

Finally Peter got up.

- You know, I'd… I'd better go to the beach. You know, fresh air and stuff. Who else wants to calm down? Nobody?

Nobody seemed eager. Peter disappeared in the bedroom to the silence, then went out fully dressed and left the pad. Nobody stopped him, nobody said a word. Micky got up.

- Do whatever you wish. I'm leaving.

He went upstairs to get dressed, then ran down and to the door. At the door he turned back and said:

- I'm coming back as soon as this mad house stands its roof up again!

Neither Mike, nor Davy answered to this strange statement. Micky looked at them, raised his eyebrows, then waved his hand at them, turned back and left, slamming the door behind him. Mike and Davy were left alone in the pad, both even more uptight. However, the silence couldn't last long.

- Mike.

Mike didn't even turn his head to the voice.

- What?

- Mike, what's wrong with us all?

- Nothing.

- You know. Why don't you want to tell me?

- Because.

- Mike.

A light hand touched his shoulder. Mike caught it and put away, holding it a little before releasing.

- Something important is going on. Don't deny, I know. I can see, you know. I'm not a fool, neither am I blind or deaf or dumb. I'm your friend. You're not easy. If nothing was happening you'd be different.

Mike didn't answer. Davy sighed.

- Listen. You're not gonna hide all the time. You'll anyway have to tell us about everything.

- Today, - Mike whispered.

- What?

- Today, - Mike repeated. – Everything's about to happen today. Or better to say tonight.

- What's about to happen?

- You'll see. One very important thing will happen and you will know.

Davy sighed again.

- As you wish. I just… want to thank you.

- What for?

- For not leaving me. You… were somehow with me all that time. I was really out of my mind, Mike. Thank you. You're… my best friend.

- So are you, - Mike answered with a little more feeling than he planned. His voice trembled a little and he was worried that Davy heard it. – You'd better go too, babe. Leave me alone. There's something very important waiting for me. I need a little time.

- As much as you wish, - Davy answered, and something bitter sounded in his voice. Mike heard his light steps as he headed to the bedroom and then everything was silent.

* * *

Silentia. Silence. It surrounded Mike. He was alone in the room with a decision to make. And he was nearly sure…

He'd been thinking for quite a long time, his head dropped on his hands. Suddenly the light steps broke the silence. Mike slowly raised his head.

- I'm… sorry if I'm distracting, - Davy said, unsure.

- It's all okay, - Mike answered.

- Thank you. Again, - Davy said in a strange voice.

- We're friends, - Mike answered quite casually.

Davy's sigh was barely audible. He opened the bathroom door and went in. Silence overwhelmed Mike once again. He put his heavy head, so overfilled with the thoughts, but with one pulsing in front of all, on his hands and was sitting like that for a few minutes. Then a sudden thought flashed in front of his eyes and he jerked his head. Davy. Special shirt. _He had it on_. A piece of paper in his hand. And fault, much fault in his voice.

Fault.

Piece of paper –_ letter_.

Special shirt.

Mike jumped on his feet and ran to the bathroom. Jerked the door a few times – it was locked. Desperate, Mike made a few steps back and put all his strength into one large hit. Under the power of a strike of his shoulder the door flew open. It took Mike less than a second to pull himself together and glance inside the bathroom.

- _Bitch_!

Mike couldn't help but exclaim it loudly. He lashed out on Davy and hit his hands first – the shaving razor fell clicking the floor – and then he raised his fist again – and hit that blank handsome face, putting all his heart in this strike.

Davy looked at him with empty eyes, then blinked a few times, then sobbed, surprised. He was suddenly so little and helpless, with a little red trickle of blood running down his cheek, right hand still as it was with a razor and left wrist turned out, so white, with a blue line of the untouched vein pulsing invisibly under the tender skin…

Mike rushed to him – and the next moment Davy was on his chest, sobbing unable to stop, hysterical – but alive, so warm, Mike heard his heartbeat, no, he felt it – Davy's heart trying to break out so desperately from under his ribs and hitting Mike's chest…

Mike pressed him close, showering that neat head with all the worst curses he knew. His voice was more relieved and tender than angry, Mike stroked Davy's warm back and chocolate hair feeling so glad to be able to _feel_ him again… he finally stopped cursing him, he just stood so close to him, holding him in his arms and not letting this little trembling life go.

- _Son of a bitch_, what did you think of? – Mike finally managed to whisper. – Have you ever – _ever_ thought of anybody else than you? Fucking egoist, if you ever _think _of killing your freaking self again, I'll _finish you_ with these very hands!

Davy's hands wrapped around his neck and Mike pressed him even closer, as if he was his lover, but he didn't think of how it looked – he was too overwhelmed with emotions.

- Forgive… me, - Davy whispered, still sobbing. – I mustn't have… Mike… It's that… just… I must be dangerous… for_ you_… I must be… such a beast… if you're so… afraid…

Mike made a bitter laugh.

- And you surely thought that you can calm me down by cutting wrists? – he said bitterly sarcastically. – You idiot, do you think you can improve anything with the shaving razor? Your life? _My_ life?

Davy didn't answer, he just sighed and snuggled up to Mike.

- Razors are made for shaving, babe, - Mike said softly, stroking Davy's back. – For improving your looks – if you look bad with a beard. Not for improving lives. Do you think that your death will ease me?

Davy remained silent, so Mike answered his own question:

- Davy, if anything happens to _you_, think that you make twice worse thing happen to _me_.

- What can be worse than death?

Mike held him like a child and pressed his lips to Davy's ear to whisper:

- Death of the one closest to your heart. Remember, babe, I don't have many people whom I value more than myself. They are my mum and you guys, especially _you my friend_. You're like a brother to me – you know, a family for me is a bunch of people for whom you can give anything, even yourself. The Monkees are my new family. Don't even think of dying, got me?

Davy leaned back. Mike released him easily. The little one looked at him suspiciously.

- Li-isten… what's that with you?

- Nothing, - Mike said, smiling a little embarrassedly. – It's you. Alive, by the way.

Davy smiled, then laughed and tapped Mike's shoulder.

- Come on, man, you're shocked. As I am. Look, I'll now be laughing hysterically!

He sighed and wiped his face with his hands.

- But thank you, - he said softly. - You're the best.

Mike shrugged, blushing.

- I'm trying.

He left the bathroom after Davy, absolutely sure he really _wanted_ to win this young wonderful creation from the claws of the demon that had occupied his body. And Mike knew nothing could stop him.


	10. The Night to Die

A/N: Culmination

* * *

**Chapter 10. The night to die.**

Peter had returned by evening. He and Davy were exchanging glances, but Mike didn't care any more. Before going upstairs quasi-to bed and for real to wait and prepare, Mike went to the bathroom and washed himself thoroughly. He did everything to be clean and look neat and he wore his favourite robe. Ready, he checked in front of the mirror if it was easy to reach his neck not biting the fabric. Everything was okay. Mike's insides, curled up into one small heavy ball in his abdomen, made him swallow hard, keeping him uptight. But Mike didn't hesitate. He checked where his vein on the neck was close to the skin – it was easy to find it as it always bulged when he sang – and swallowed again, examining himself in the mirror for the last time – maybe until the next morning, maybe – the last time ever.

Mike smiled at his own reflection.

- Goodbye, Mike, - he said quietly. – Remember, it was only your choice.

He looked down, then back at himself in the mirror.

- It was nice knowing you. If you only weren't such a coward sometimes! But thank you for making this decision. Till tomorrow – or till nevermore. Sorry that I called you ugly, if you mind. Don't wanna go forever with leftovers of fault, y'see.

He smiled confusedly and left the bathroom.

* * *

The room was quiet. Then a click broke the silence and the door opened. Three figures walked in. Mike didn't even rise towards them. He was sitting on his bed playing careless.

- Hi bastard, - he greeted as the three approached him. – I've been waiting for you.

The one in Davy's body smiled disgustingly.

- A-ah, - he said in that same hissing voice that made chills run down Mike's spine. – You understood me perfectly and decided to meet your death consciously? My boy, you don't know how much pain you're going to feel!

- Are you thinking of scaring me? – Mike asked mockingly. – Don't even try. First of all I'd like to know your name, if your freaking majesty pleases!

He bared his teeth in the most mocking grin he could make on his face. The demon squinted, his disgusting smile grew even wider.

- My name is Vicentius, - he said. – Means 'the one who wins'. Oh the irony! – he laughed and it took Mike a lot not to punch him in the face. - And those two are Cassius – 'empty', - he pointed at Peter, - and Severo – 'strict', - his finger moved to Micky. - A good company, ha, Michael? Want to prove what your name means – that you're like God?

- I don't wanna prove anything, - Mike said firmly. – I'm just a man, but I have a business to do here. I'm waiting for you to bring back what's not yours. I have a good price to pay you.

- The price? – Severo stepped forward, but Vicentius looked at him with his cold evil stars – and Severo stopped.

- Hush Severo! He's _mine_, - Vicentius said with a threat.

Mike looked at Severo. He occupied Micky's body, but his voice was not Micky's – it was deep, like the lowest notes of the bass. His eyes were shining green, as cold as Vicentius'. Cassius, who took Peter's incarnation, had eyes shining cold purple, but he yet remained silent. Vicentius inched closer to Mike and raised the guy's face a little with his finger under Mike's chin. Mike swallowed.

- So, you've got a price to pay, - the demon said thoughtfully. – What's that price? What can you give me – give _us_ – for what you want? And what do you want, by the way, my friend?

- I'm not, - Mike jerked his head, making himself free from cold Vicentius' fingers. – And I want my friends – my _real_ friends, whose bodies you took without asking. I want them back.

Vicentius, Cassius and Severo started laughing and their laugh made the most terrible sound. Mike wanted so to close his ears, but he didn't. He didn't want to look weak for a second. Finally Vicentius leaned over Mike and said with a terrible smile:

- Listen, Michael. You know, I was the first to take a boy from your pad. And that means I was doomed to be the leader, ha-ha-ha! – he laughed again, but Mike didn't make a move. Vicentius' smile disappeared as he went on quietly and threateningly: - I _am_ the leader. I created them, - he pointed at the two behind him, - and it's me who holds their real souls. To win them you must win my one, and I don't know what you have to make me die!

- Let me prove I have something, - Mike said bravely, narrowing his eyes a little. – Come here closer, I want to say it to you only.

- Vicentius!

That was the voice of Cassius' – the finest tenor. Vicentius turned back – two his companions were right behind him.

- Vicentius, let us finish him. He's dangerous as he knows too much, - Cassius said, squinting at the leader.

- He's dangerous for you first of all, as you're playing main, - Severo added.

- Shut up, you two! – Vicentius shouted. – He's _m_y prey, _I've_ chosen him! Where were _you_? He's mine and you're not gonna touch him!

- We're not gonna, - Cassius said with a slight sarcastic smile. – We'll just stand and watch. Right, Severo?

- Yes, we'll stand and watch, - Severo answered with that same grin.

- Go to that corner! – Vicentius commanded.

Cassius and Severo obeyed and stood there watching Vicentius carefully. They still had those smirks on their faces. Vicentius turned to Mike and came closer to him and leaned over again.

- So what do you want to propose me? – he asked quietly.

- Even closer, - Mike said. – I don't want anybody to hear. Just let me say it right in your ear.

Vicentius leaned a little more – and Mike thanked heavens he had that same Davy's habit: being attentive he kept his mouth half-opened.

- Come here, son of a bitch, - Mike exhaled as he pressed the sharp demon's teeth to his own naked neck…

It was painful. Really painful. Vicentius in Davy's body fell on his lap and it looked twice awkward now, but Mike didn't care. The pain overwhelmed him as he felt his own warm blood slowly leaving his body.

- Okay, son of a gun, - he whispered with a grin. – That's what you wanted, right? My blood. My life. But you didn't keep one thing in mind: I _want_ it! I want you to kill me because it's not you I'm giving myself to. It's Davy. My power for him, my life for his. Deal, son of a bitch? Sounds like a deal!

Vicentius-Davy in Mike's arms tried to pull away desperately, but Mike only pressed his head closer and whispered:

- No-o, bastard. No. You thought I'd leave you so easily? Not so fast! That's what you wanted and you'll get it in full. And now shut up and know your business. I'm gonna talk to Davy.

Vicentius tried harder to get rid of Mike, but he couldn't. Mike pressed him to his chest, closed his eyes and started.

- Davy, I love you.

He made a pause, swallowed hard and went on:

- It's not what it might sound like. Love is not when people hug and kiss and sleep together and then get married. Well, of course, that's it as well, but that's not all.

He took a deep breath.

- You know, since I found out something was wrong with you, I've been searching. And, funny, I didn't even really know what I've been searching for. It appeared that I found out how to help you, but that wasn't the main thing. You know, when I found out that love could save you, I thought a lot about what love was. And suddenly I realized that love is not when people are together. Love is when people are one. Two become one. Love is when the worst thing you fear in death is not stopping existing, but stopping being there for somebody else. You know, I don't believe in death forever, I think that something anyway will stay after I die – my soul, I think that's a right word. But as long as we breathe we're not only souls. And sometimes we need a little bodily reassurance that we exist. A touch. A look. Some motion, something to do for someone else. And that's what I found out I feared the most in death – to be lost for you.

He made a little pause, feeling how hard it suddenly appeared to breathe.

- I'm sorry for hesitating when I knew that only real love could save you. It's all because I didn't know what love was for me. I think now that everyone makes out his definition of love by him of herself. But before I found out what love was for me, the main definition of it in my head was that stereotype they draw in movies. Listen, little one, you're more than a brother to me. I don't even know who you are, but I have something for you. I think – no, I'm sure! – that it's what's called love. The love of one human being to another one.

He took a deep breath and stroked Davy's back lightly. Vicentius in Davy's body arched and groaned, but Mike didn't care for him. It was Davy who mattered and Mike felt his warm blood leaving his body to kill the beast. The wet tongue of the monster in Davy's incarnation touched his neck – the bloodsucker was still eager, he was hungry and even though he knew he would die, he enjoyed painfully every single drop of blood.

- Now listen, baby, - Mike continued, stroking Davy's back. – Whatever happens, I wish you to be happy, my little one. Find your one to love. Take care of Peter and Micky. You know, it was me who was the head of ours – it's always hard to be a head. You know, me and you – we are, like, sensible. We have always been. And Micky and Peter – they're something more like sensitive. It's like the head and the heart. The head rules you, but if it doesn't listen to your heart, it won't lead to anything good. Though I think your heart sometimes rules you, I hope in the extreme conditions you will pull yourself together and listen to your mind.

He breathed in and out, and again in. There was too little air...

- Please, be happy, my little one. Whatever happens. I'm giving everything I have – myself – to you not just to help you kill this monster Vicentius. I also hope that something from me will live on in you, if the worst happens and I don't wake up tomorrow morning. I won't tell you what you need to resurrect me. I want you to listen to your heart. _Now_ do. You have always been a fighter. But now…

His voice trembled. He forced himself to go on through all that pain.

- Be weak. When you find me dead – please, help me. Be weak. For a moment. Let your heart out. And remember – don't blame me. From the start and to the end I wish you only the best. I'm giving you myself 'cause that's all I possess. What else do I have? My guitar? Tell somebody of the guys to take care of it – or sell it. If the worst happens. You know, before I met you guys, when I was singing my songs under the name of Blessing, I sang: 'Six strings – 'cause they're the only friends I know'. Funny, then it was quite true. But not now, baby. Take care of yourself and – please, remember me. If I don't wake up tomorrow.

Severo and Cassius in the corner were shaking in agony; they fell on the floor and they were scratching the walls. Mike cast a glance at them and closed his eyes. He felt that cold weakness and he knew he was living his last minutes.

- Davy. Baby. My little one. I'm leaving. You can catch my hand or let me go. Whatever you do – be happy. Tell Micky and Peter to be. Live on. Please. For me.

He took a breath. Then swallowed. The last drops of blood. Vicentius shouldn't miss a single one. Another step closer to death… and another… Mike's sight blurred, he saw shining spots and dark squares. He pressed Davy's head to his neck in the last wave of pain – and then released him, and slid on the floor as Davy jumped away and wiped his mouth with his hand. Micky and Peter in the corner sat up, wincing. Davy looked at Mike blankly, then in sudden pain he knelt down and squeezed his head with his hands, then raised his face to the ceiling – and with one last painful roar he finally let the leftovers of Vicentius out. Absolutely worn out, Davy dropped his heavy head, then looked up – and gasped, and threw himself towards Mike.

* * *

Not a single drop of blood ran out of the little round wound on Mike's neck. That was just because there was nothing left to pour. Mike did as he must've – he gave his all. Davy shook him and held him, but Mike's cold white body didn't move.

Mike was dead…

* * *

A/N: Don't tell me I killed him. Just wait for another chapter. That's not the last one. That's a culmination. Bite your nails, do whatever you wish. You'll know yourself. Soon.


	11. The Day to Live

**Chapter 11. The day to live.**

Micky and Peter knelt down near Davy, silent. Finally Micky put his hand on the little mate's shoulder.

- Davy, - he said softly. – We must be thanking him, you know.

- He gave himself for us, - Peter said, hoarse.

- I know, - Davy answered in a hollow voice. – Guys… leave us. Leave us alone.

Peter was about to say something, but Micky put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. 'Let's go, Pete', he said with his lips only. They both rose in silence and left the room. And that's when Davy fell on Mike's unmoving stone cold breast.

- Mike, - he whispered, sobbing. – What have you done?

Now he remembered everything clearly: Peter and Micky and how he had made them beasts as well. He remembered the taste of Mike's blood in his throat – how sickening the aftertaste was on his tongue! He remembered every single word Mike said to him and as he remembered, the tears burnt his cheeks, falling on the dead body.

- What have you done? – Davy whispered. – Why did you have to? God, I killed you! I, I killed you, and I now have the whole life to live with it! What have you done?..

Stinging, bitter fault overwhelmed him and he couldn't help but cry.

- Oh, there's nothing I wouldn't give to return you, - Davy whispered, caressing Mike's face, stroking his hair and squeezing his hands. – Except for, maybe, my life - just not to cause you such pain! Loving is being afraid of stopping being there for somebody, you said. So that's what you were so afraid of all this time!

He held Mike in his arms.

- Listen, - he managed. – I won't say anything more to you, except for one thing: love is also a fear of losing the ability of even praying for somebody when they die. What can _I_ do? – he sobbed. – Just lay down and cry. Cry my heart out…

He wiped those tears from his cheeks, swallowed hard – but he couldn't stop, he was so close to being hysterical.

- Let's just be here, - Davy said in tears. – Let me – just – cry. Nobody was ever able to understand my tears except you. Now goodbye… I will always remember you, how can one forget somebody like you?

And, unable to hold it any more, he buried his face on Mike's chest and let all his tears out…

* * *

The sun woke up. It rose from behind the horizon; it yawned and threw off the clouds and the darkness of the night. It rolled through the sky; it rose higher and higher, giving its rays to everybody and everything. It looked under every tree, it caressed every early bird, it looked in the windows and made everything and everybody smile.

But one house on its way was so sad and silent. The sun looked in its window curiously and it saw two guys lying on the floor – the one was so pale, his face looked especially white in the frame of his dark hair. The other one's face was yet wet with the tears and the sun looked at them two in surprise. It caressed the little one softly and then sent the ray to look closer at the pale one, but as soon as it touched his eyelashes, he trembled and took a deep breath. All paleness faded as the normal colour of his skin returned – he was just a simple young man, quite thin, with a little blue shade around his mouth from shaving.

As the taller one took breath after breath, smiling happily but not opening his eyes, the little one startled and raised his head. When he saw his mate breathing and smiling, he sat up quickly and patted his cheeks slightly. His friend opened his eyes and looked at the little one, at his smiled face in tears of happiness, and sat up to hold him tight. But Davy was quicker; he wrapped his arms around Mike's neck and whispered:

- Good morning.

Mike stroked his back and said:

- Good morning to you, my little one.

- Mike, - Davy began immediately, - everything you said and did to me, you…

- Hush! – Mike smiled and put his hands on Davy's shoulders, leaning back. He pressed his forehead to Davy's and looked deep into wild honey coloured eyes.

- Don't say anything, - he said tenderly. – Everything I said and did came right from my heart, don't ever doubt me. But let's not talk about it any more. You'd do the same for me, I believe it. Don't say anything. You don't know until it comes to this, but I wish you never to feel the same! Now you're free and I'm alive, that's all that matters. May I do one thing?

Davy smiled at Mike and nodded.

- Anything.

- Close your eyes, - Mike said, leaning back just a bit.

Davy closed his eyes and, as if feeling what Mike was about to do, raised his face. Mike looked at it for a second – the purest joy was written on it – and then closed his own eyes and kissed Davy on the forehead, expecting that he would lean back or pull Mike away. Davy didn't do anything. He didn't touch Mike, he didn't hug him neither did he stop it all. He just sat, letting Mike embrace his head for a few seconds before he released him. Their eyes met and Davy smiled at Mike.

- Are you going to live on now? – he asked.

- We, - Mike said softly, his smile growing wider. He showed his teeth with a bit of confuse and went on: - We're gonna live. We have a day to live. Me and you and everybody.

Davy grabbed his wrist.

- And tomorrow?

A worry sounded in his voice. Mike ran his fingers through Davy's soft chocolate hair. This childish affection he found in Davy warmed his heart, he felt so cheerful that his little one found that love that could resurrect Mike! He didn't care that they looked like two sweethearts now – nobody could see them but the sun.

- Tomorrow… tomorrow is another talk, my friend, - he said tenderly. – We have to live before tomorrow as we have today. Tomorning, - he laughed quietly at that new word he'd just gave birth to. - Like a page to write before we think what will be on the next one. If you think only about the next, how possibly will you write the valuable things on the page in front of you? Just take my hand and let's walk into this day – Peter and Micky must be waiting. And a lot of things must be waiting for us. M?

Davy shook his head with a bright smile.

- I still have some important thing to do.

- And what is it? – Mike asked curiously. – Don't even think of thanking me, I know what must be going on in your head!

- You didn't quite guess, - Davy said playfully. – You just close your eyes and lean down here, I'll tell you something.

Mike laughed, but he closed his eyes and leaned down a bit towards Davy. The little one's arms wrapped around his neck and a soft wet whisper touched his ear:

- You might be a lamppost that plays smart all the time, but, you know, you're the best lamppost I ever knew.

And without hesitation, without even thinking of anything except that very moment desire, Davy kissed him on the cheek. Blood banged in Mike's ears, he blushed like never before and leaned back quickly as Davy released him.

- Are you serious? – he asked, absolutely lost.

- You ask!

Mike rose and Davy rose after him, still smiling delightedly. Mike knew his cheeks and ears were burning, but he just looked at Davy and said with a slight smile:

- You know, enough caressing. We both know what we know.

He gave Davy his hand and Davy squeezed it. Mike nodded and continued:

- We still have a day to live. Together. So let's live this day before tomorrow. Let's live it as well as we can. What do you think?

* * *

A/N: Thank you all, my faithful readers who reached this point, this full stop! I tried one of my best in this very story, but – cheer up – that's not yet the end! The second part will come soon titled 'The Wall Biters or For the Love of Mike'. Wait (im)patiently and all the best to you!  
Sincerely, The Orangest Child.


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